The Bejeweled Sword
by IcyWaters
Summary: Don Diego's fancy new rapier paints a target on his back. Walt Disney's Zorro blended with Johnston McCulley's original creation.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is based upon characters created by Johnston McCulley and those featured in Walt Disney's Zorro television series. Regrettably, I don't own them.

Author's Note: I wanted to write a short adventure in the vein of Johnston McCulley's original stories. It turned out I missed the loveable Disney characters too much. Sergeant Garcia possesses a certain charm! The result is McCulley's deliciously haughty Diego dropped into Disney's world. If you're not familiar with his work, think of Tyrone Power's superb performance in 1940's _The Mark of Zorro_.

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><p><span><strong>The Bejeweled Sword<strong>

**Chapter 1  
><strong>**"Don Diego's New Accessory"**

Sunlight glinted off exceptionally crafted steel blades. Don Diego de la Vega adjusted his hat and stepped to the side to keep in the shade. It was intolerable to shop in the heat of midday.

"This one,"—the merchant cradled a rapier adorned with filigree worthy a king—"was forged in Italy by a master swordsmith who counts royal families amongst his clients."

Don Diego sighed.

Rebuked as if he committed a cardinal sin, the merchant cleared his throat, set the blade aside and continued showing the young don other models befitting the de la Vega name. Only preeminent Spanish artisans crafted these next perfectly balanced weapons. The optimistic voice faded to a distant hum as Don Diego's languid gaze trailed from a pair of training foils and basic épées to fine rapiers and heavier sabers.

"Must I do this, Father?"

Don Alejandro accepted a lavish rapier from the merchant and tested the weight. "The saints know I have been more than patient when it comes to coddling your ardor for poetry. If you do not wish to indulge in the pursuits of a proper caballero, you can at least feign an interest for my sake." He nodded with satisfaction. "This is an excellent choice."

"It bores me."

"Then I shall purchase it for myself."

Don Diego traced his gloved fingers along some of the grips closest to him, wrenching his hand away with a frown as if he touched filth. Then a glint caught the corner of his vision. He pointed to a lower shelf behind the merchant. "I wish to examine that one."

"That one?" the merchant repeated, his voice rising in pitch before catching his blunder. "Of course, Señor." He bowed. "Certainly, Señor."

The ornate rapier—gaudy to even the least fashionable of señores—possessed a hilt studded with gemstones of various colors. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, sapphires and opals all called it home. Equally embellished was the scabbard.

A newcomer to the pueblo, who wandered aimlessly around the plaza, inched closer.

Don Diego admired the jewels. "Exquisite. Now this is a sword of kings. Are the jewels genuine?"

"I am afraid not, Señor," replied the merchant. "I wish not to offend your discriminating taste, Don Diego, but this was designed as a prop for theater troupes. The steel is of poor quality; it would never hold up in a duel."

The wiry newcomer slipped away, his shoulders hunched.

"I have no desire to duel. Blood stains fabric and sweat is for pigs." Don Diego admired the pretty colors in the sunlight. If the sun must assault him, he should find decent use for it. With boisterous voice, he declared, "I shall show this to the blacksmith and have him forge me the strongest blade in California. On that blade I will affix genuine jewels worthy the de la Vega name."

This piqued the newcomer's attention and he lingered at the adjacent stall.

Don Diego withdrew his purse from his jacket. "How much is it, Señor Merchant?"

"I cannot charge you for this, Señor de la Vega."

"Nonsense. Is my money not good enough for you?"

"Oh, it is not that. Consider it a gift since your father purchased an expensive model."

"Gracias, my good man."

A peculiar glint sparked in the hazel eyes. Don Diego whipped the rapier from the garish scabbard and sliced the air with wild abandonment. Shoppers ducked for cover. Children giggled and cheered him on. A gray-haired woman seated at a neighboring stall rescued bolts of fabric from his reach.

With a sly smile, Don Alejandro shook his head before intervening. "It warms my heart to see you with sword in hand, mi hijo. Now, let us get you properly settled."

Don Diego returned his prize to the scabbard. He looked to his hip, unsure of what to do. His father took pity, purchased a sword belt and showed his son how to latch the weapon on.

Just then, Sergeant Garcia and Corporal Reyes approached. "What is this?" the big sergeant exclaimed. "Do my eyes betray me? Have you finally taken up the manly art of fencing, Don Diego?"

"No, this is my father's idea. I shall recite the particulars in the tavern, if you will be my guests." He did not have to inquire twice for an eager chorus of gratitude resounded. Don Alejandro excused himself to attend other affairs and Don Diego motioned for his manservant, Bernardo, to follow.

On route to the tavern, Don Diego paused in front of a display of mirrors and glass. He admired his reflection, puffing out his chest and brushing a fingertip over his thin moustache. "I look quite dashing."

Garcia and Reyes eagerly agreed, as would any soldier awaiting free refreshments.

Before he turned, Don Diego noted the nosy newcomer in the reflection. The man averted his gaze to study some feminine scarves. A funny thing for a man with the face of a rodent and the clothes of a beggar. What woman would settle for such scum?

Don Diego pressed a lacy perfumed handkerchief to his nose. No doubt this vermin was tainted with the stench of one, too. Then he discarded the thought; a caballero of honorable blood does not dwell on scum. Nevertheless, he chuckled when Señora Merchant chased the rodent away with a broom.

Drinks in hand—hearty mugs for the soldiers and a dainty crystal goblet for the caballero—Don Diego narrated his tale. "So, with my head throbbing from my father's raised voice, I yielded to his whims."

Señor Rodent leaned against the bar not far from where Bernardo stood and ordered a drink. A few minutes later, another rodent, a rattier rodent with a paunchy belly and drooping moustache, joined the first. Whispers exchanged and the two vermin claimed a table within earshot of Don Diego's gathering.

"It is certainly a pretty sword, Don Diego," said Garcia.

"Very pretty," echoed Reyes.

The accolades rated a new bottle of wine.

"Sí, it is. It matches the embroidery on my suit quite well. I think I will have several made. A jeweled hilt of sapphires to complement my gray suit. Another of rubies to adorn my dark blue attire." Don Diego rubbed a thumb over the piece of glass impersonating a diamond. "I may even commission a hilt of diamonds should I order a black suit from my tailor in Madrid."

Garcia and Reyes nodded in agreement, gulping their wine.

Don Diego wore only the most luxurious wools and smoothest silks. His hands were soft and supple, the hands of an idle young man with too much time and a lack of fervor in his life. His skin was like cream, unblemished by the harsh sun or the cut of a blade, so much that he earned the envy of all señoritas of pure blood who desired to learn his secrets.

This wealth and breeding made Don Diego an ideal suitor, despite the absence of passion in his veins. Passion was for a lover, reliability for a husband; a Spanish lady could do far worse than marry the handsome don. Señoritas flirted from behind delicate fans, batting dark eyelashes in his direction whenever stern dueñas were distracted. While they exuded sweetness and innocence and demureness, the flutter of the fan revealed curled lips beckoning the young man to a midnight serenade.

Each night they retired in disappointment.

Don Diego merely yawned in their presence, oblivious to their attention, politely covering his mouth with a scented handkerchief. This earned him the teasing of his fellow caballeros. "Such bold creatures!" he lamented over wine when told of what he missed. In reality, the sultry pleas and shapely figures did not escape his sharp eyes. To his delight, his apparent indifference encouraged the señoritas to be even more daring.

That same indifference shone now when Don Diego dabbed at his neck with the lacy perfumed handkerchief, bored with the discussion of swords. "What was that you said, my good sergeant?"

"Please be careful, Don Diego. Bandidos robbed two men on El Camino Real this week alone. Your friend, Don Carlos Cassara, fell victim just two nights ago."

"Then I shall stay off El Camino Real." Don Diego again rubbed a thumb over the glass gemstones. "I refuse to permit Señor Zorro to steal my prize."

"Señor Zorro will be jealous of it," Reyes added.

"It would be an illustrious day should a de la Vega defeat that rogue," Don Diego replied.

"With these magnificent swords, Don Diego, you will rid us of the fox at last," Garcia said. Another bottle of wine followed. "I imagine it will merit a celebration the likes of which Los Angeles has never seen before. However, it was not Zorro who robbed the travelers."

"Most perplexing, Sergeant. These fiends escaped your bravery?"

"Sí, I cannot be everywhere at once and my lancers are not as cunning as their sergeant, but the bandidos cannot evade me forever. I will catch them and El Camino Real will be safe for noble hacendados once more."

Garcia's boasting went unchallenged; the corporal held a mouthful of wine.

"Good to hear, my dear sergeant." Don Diego bid them farewell, leaving the soldiers to savor the remnants in the bottle. A wave summoned Bernardo. Outside on the tavern's porch, he fiddled with his hat and tugged on leather gloves while his manservant answered the unspoken question with an imperceptible nod.

Mute Bernardo, who also feigned deafness, overheard their whispers.

Don Diego strolled in the direction of the blacksmith with a rare bounce in his leisurely gait. The blade on his hip drew curious gawks, none more so than when the young heir flashed dazzling smiles to the pretty señoritas. So stunned they were, even strict dueñas stood agape, failing to chastise their charges on proper decorum.

Finally, some fire in this de le Vega's blood!

Silence swept over the marketplace when Don Diego paused before Señorita Lolita Pulido. He made a sweeping bow and pressed a gentle kiss to her delicate hand, whispering sweet words for her ears only. Cheeks blushing, Señorita Lolita wielded her fan with a slight tremble, her delighted giggle lingering in the air.

When Don Diego imparted his goodbyes with another sweeping bow, he spied the rodent from the corner of his vision. He smiled and continued onward.

Inside the oppressive heat of the dim smithy, Don Diego brushed his scented handkerchief over his nostrils to ward off the stench of sweat and iron. He moved near the fresh air and light by the open door to display his prize. A shadow lingered near the threshold.

"It is my honor to forge a sword for you, Don Diego," said Salvio.

"I will send my manservant to fetch it tomorrow."

Salvio's brows rose to his hairline. "Tomorrow?"

"Ah, I suppose I should personally inspect it. Test the weight and whatever else a fencer does. My father certainly would. Yes, it would please him for me to do so. Make it the day after, once the sun descends." Don Diego yawned. "These warm rays fatigue me."

Salvio cleared his throat. "I am afraid there is a slight misunderstanding, Don Diego. It takes months, upwards of a year, for a swordsmith to craft a fine blade, of which I am not. One worthy a de la Vega name requires only the best Toledo steel. I must to order it from Monterey, perhaps even Mexico City."

Don Diego sighed and dabbed his neck with the handkerchief. "Months?"

Salvio nodded. "If I understand correctly, Don Diego, you will require a large selection of gemstones."

"Sí, that is true. There is decent jeweler in Santa Barbara. Not our usual supplier, of course, but my business will please him so. Should he disappoint me, a few words to my friends and his future will be that of a beggar."

"These gems will take time to acquire and to scrutinize," said Salvio, careful not to arouse the don's ire.

"It will not do to carry around this meager trinket for months. Phony gems and fragile steel for a de la Vega? Bah! Never! It is an affront to the noble blood in my veins."

The shadow slinked away while Salvio remained as mute as Bernardo.

"But for my first rapier, I will use some of my family's jewels," Diego said, raising his voice as if insulted the blacksmith did not consider this, knowing the rodent would hear. The shadow reappeared.

"My apologies, Don Diego. Obviously, you cannot conduct yourself with an inferior sword. What if I modify the hilt for a rapier already in your father's collection? Along with its scabbard? It should take me no longer than an afternoon at most. You will have an exceptional Spanish blade on your hip. Meanwhile, there is ample time to select gemstones before the Toledo steel arrives."

"Excellent idea, Salvio! I will bring the rapier and gemstones during the late morning."

They concluded business. Don Diego left with Bernardo at his side. He glimpsed the rodents convening in the shade of a nearby building, their beady eyes affixed upon him, as he untethered his Palomino's reins. Back erect and chin held high, he began the ride home.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Bejeweled Sword**

**Chapter 2  
><strong>**"The Maddening Don Diego"**

Luis scurried from his spot near the smithy's entry. He passed his compañero, snatched him by the elbow and pulled him next to a building. His nose twitched with the delight of a mouse discovering a morsel of cheese. "The puppy is going to make us rich!"

"Pfft, the idiot does not realize it takes time to make a sword. Time we do not have."

"You are wrong, Antonio. Tomorrow morning, the puppy is bringing de la Vega gems for the blacksmith to affix to one of his father's swords."

A beaming smile spread on Antonio's lips revealing crooked, yellowing teeth. "Madre de Dios, we will be richer than we could ever imagine!"

"Shh, you fool!" Luis clasped a hand over his compañero's mouth while glancing cautiously at the buzzing marketplace. "Why not shout it to everyone?" He dragged his heavier friend deeper in the shadow of the building.

"I'm sorry, mi amigo," said Antonio, lowering his voice. "Did you see the dandy's heavy purse when he paid for the drinks? We will take that, too, when we relieve him of the jewels."

"Not to mention a de la Vega sword must be worth a pretty centavo, along with that golden horse."

Antonio chuckled. "The dandy will probably collapse from exhaustion on the walk home. We will be in San Juan Capistrano before anyone learns we struck again." He leaned against the adobe wall and hooked his thumbs on the waistband of his trousers, which sat well below his belly. "I will be the master of a little casa. Josefa might finally agree to marry me. The stupid woman will regret calling me a pitiful bandido who never amounts to anything."

"If she hears you calling her stupid, you will get another frying pan to the head." Luis' comment earned him a punch to the shoulder.

"Hey, Luis, let us rob the de la Vega hacienda tonight. Why settle for a few gems when we can take them all? Hacendados keep hundreds, if not thousands, of pesos within their walls."

"Are you loco?" exclaimed Luis. "I am greedy, but not greedy enough to get my neck stretched. Don Alejandro is a hothead unlike his son. He fights. There will be servants and rancho workers. No."

"I suppose you are right."

"Of course I am right. The puppy usually travels with his manservant, who is said to be deaf and dumb. It will be like stealing from an infant."

The two compañeros laughed all the way to their horses. They kept far behind Don Diego and Bernardo, choosing to make camp amid dense shrubbery on the road leading to the de la Vega hacienda. From there, they had a good view of the comings and goings. Confident Don Diego was too lazy to be an early riser, they slept soundly under the stars.

Following a simple breakfast, they watched and waited while the sun rose higher in the sky. Luis signaled Antonio when he heard hoof beats stemming from around the bend in the road. To their disappointment, it was merely a servant.

They sat below a shady spot on the dirt playing dice when more hoof beats reached their ears. These belonged to multiple riders and came from the opposite direction. Carefully, they peeked between the shrubs. Eyes grew wide when they spied Sergeant Garcia, Corporal Reyes and a pair of privates accompanying the servant from earlier.

The two amigos exchanged puzzled glances and shrugged. Minutes ticked by. Impatience led them to sneak near the outer wall of the hacienda. Luis peered around the corner first. Antonio pushed him lower for a peek of his own while grumbling under his breath.

"If a dirty rascal beat us to the jewels—"

Three soldiers remained astride their animals. Garcia's horse savored a respite. The deaf and dumb manservant led a Palomino and chestnut to the gate. The fat sergeant rejoined his men; his horse snorted.

Again, they waited. Luis and Antonio exchanged another round of shrugs. Then Don Diego emerged, dressed his resplendent best with the bejeweled sword on his hip. A lacy handkerchief pressed to his nostrils, he handed a second scabbard to Bernardo, who hung it on the chestnut's saddle horn. He accepted the reins of the golden horse with a yawn.

"Gracias, Sergeant, for the military escort," said Don Diego.

"It is no trouble," replied Garcia. "It is the army's duty to protect loyal subjects of the king."

"Idiot," hissed Antonio, drawing back. "We should have robbed him last night."

"Ah, the puppy is simply worried about carrying loose gems. The soldiers cannot guard him all the time. We will get him on the ride home."

"You had better be right, Luis."

So they trailed the group allowing them a generous lead. Just as they expected, Garcia and the soldiers departed once they conducted Don Diego safely to the blacksmith's forge. The caballero lingered near the door dispersing orders and departed with his manservant in tow.

Antonio fumbled for the pistol tucked in the waistband of his trousers. "Let's get the jewels."

Luis shook his head. "Josefa hit you one too many times with the frying pan."

"What?"

"Do you see the size of the blacksmith's arms?" Luis asked. "He spends all day, everyday bending iron. What do you think he will do to us if we make a mistake?"

"Break us in half," Antonio conceded.

"Exactly. We wait until the puppy retrieves the sword and goes home."

"You had better be right," warned Antonio.

Antonio leaned on the well at the center of the plaza for a spell. Luis wandered the market stalls, mindful of irate señoras with brooms. The caballero continued to set señoritas' hearts aflutter with his newfound courage buoyed by the garish sword he kept.

At one point, Don Diego, with Señorita Pulido on his arm, passed Antonio at the well. He pulled a scented handkerchief from his jacket and moaned about the stench of riffraff invading the pueblo. The droopy moustache twitched; Luis barely managed to keep his incensed amigo from brandishing his pistol and shooting the puppy on the spot.

"He insulted me!"

"Shh," said Luis, trying not to draw attention. Then he inhaled deeply. "He is right. You need a bath." He took off running with Antonio chasing after him. The paunchy belly ran out of breath.

Shaking his head, Luis rounded a building to resume watch and muttered thanks when Don Diego, fatigued by the sun and the mingling, bid the señorita farewell and sought refuge in the cool tavern. Sergeant Garcia and Corporal Reyes assumed the duty of keeping the caballero company.

Luis dropped into a chair at a corner table on the far end of the sala. Elbow propped on the wood surface and head cradled in his palm, he struggled to stay awake. All they did was eat, drink and boast!

And Don Diego yawned.

He slipped out the back door and let Antonio take his place. For the next few hours, they alternated between the corner table, the outdoor patio and circling the building, waiting for their mark to return home after collecting his modified sword.

"Madre de Dios," exclaimed Antonio when they met near the stables at the rear of the establishment. "How can that dandy grumble about being tired when he does nothing?"

Luis chuckled. "I almost nodded off listening to him. Maybe he bores himself."

They resumed surveillance. Hues of pink and orange streaked the skies; merchants began loading their wares on carts. Luis and Antonio took to playing dice near their horses while they still had light. Their moods perked up when they glimpsed a peon cutting a beeline from the smithy to the tavern. Inside, they perched against the bar and listened to the messenger telling Don Diego his sword was ready.

"Inform Salvio I will be there later, por favor."

Antonio threw his head back in exasperation.

Twilight settled over the pueblo and Don Diego was still entertaining the soldiers. Open tables became fewer. Guitar music filled the big room. Barmaids in colorful skirts wove paths in the boisterous clientele to deliver platters of food and wine. For a moment, it looked like Don Diego was prepared to leave when he sent his manservant outside. Luis followed Bernardo.

"Well?" Antonio prodded when his compañero returned to the bar.

Luis shrugged. "The deaf and dumb one is riding in the direction of the de la Vega hacienda."

"Aargh." Antonio's head fell to the smooth wood surface. "What is this dandy up to?"

Luis shrugged again. "Maybe he sent the manservant to fetch his perfumes so he can stay the night."

"Hey, that would not be so bad. It'd be easy to take his things."

"Uh-oh,"—Luis nudged his friend in the ribs—"Look."

Don Carlos Cassara entered the tavern and joined the festivities at Don Diego's table. The garish sword was displayed. The conversation then promptly turned to Don Carlos' encounter with the bandidos preying upon those traveling El Camino Real.

"We cannot risk him recognizing us. Let's get out of here—and put the pistol away, you fool." Tugging hats lower on their heads, they navigated the crowd and loitered in the nearly empty plaza.

The excruciating wait finally paid dividends. Don Diego descended the steps. Sergeant Garcia and Corporal Reyes, on route to the cuartel, offered their goodbyes while the caballero untethered his Palomino's reins. Luis and Antonio snorted, recognizing the puppy didn't leave the soldiers with wine.

Salvio kept the smithy open for Don Diego. They listened while he fawned over his new prize.

"Come on, we'll ambush him before he turns on the road to the de la Vega hacienda," said Luis.

Don Diego smiled when he discerned two rats scampering into the night. After he brushed his handkerchief over his nostrils and lamented the late hour, he latched the improved version of his father's rapier to his hip, paid Salvio for his efforts, draped the inferior sword to the saddle horn and mounted. "Adiós, Señor Blacksmith."

Shoulders squared and head held high, Don Diego urged his horse into a trot.

Crickets chirped and sweet citrus blossoms wafted on the breeze. He rode alone on the moonlight path, the steady gait of hooves keeping him company. As Don Diego directed his horse around the curve, two hombres, bandanas covering their whiskers, bolted from a shadowy grove astride nags.

The paunchier of the duo flaunted a pistol. "Your money and your jewels."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Bejeweled Sword**

**Chapter 3  
><strong>**"Don Diego Fights Poltroons"**

The Palomino danced anxiously under his master. Don Diego's eyes flared. "Thieves! Ruffians! You dare to rob a de la Vega?" He drew his rapier. "I will fight you!"

Luis and Antonio chuckled.

This only served to further enrage Don Diego. He dismounted, tied the reins to a low hanging branch and adopted a textbook en garde position. "Scum! Poltroons! Taste my wrath if you dare!"

"The way he talks about you, he must know your girl," quipped Luis.

"Nah," replied Antonio, "Josefa calls me a lot worse."

"Teach the puppy a lesson, amigo."

"My pleasure." Antonio climbed down, unsheathed his blade and met Don Diego.

"Filthy poltroon, you think I do not know how to use this. You are mistaken. My father taught me as a child and I have read many texts on the art of fencing. En garde!" Don Diego leaped forward, swinging his rapier back-and-forth in broad strokes.

Antonio dodged the attack, the length of Toledo steel knocking his hat off his head. He patted his hair to make sure it was still there. "You have had your fun, dandy."

"Dandy?" repeated Don Diego. "Scum! I will teach you manners." He launched a new offensive.

Blades clashed. Don Diego wielded the rapier like a club. Antonio fell unbalanced to the dirt while defending against the unorthodox assault. On all fours, the bandido moved to stand when Don Diego triumphantly yelled, "Ha, take this, poltroon."

The tip of his sword pierced Antonio's cheek—his rear cheek. Antonio clasped his bottom and yelped. "Aieee, help me, Luis." His compañero scrambled off the horse with a blade in one hand and a pistol in the other.

Don Diego inched backward. "That is cheating, Señor." He gulped as the pistol took aim. With a cry of surprise, he tripped on a rock and tumbled down a slope into the thicket of trees, the bullet missing him.

Luis slapped his forehead. "Santa Maria, how awkward can one man be? That puppy probably impaled himself in the fall. Now we have to crawl in the dirt and find the body."

"You will have to do it alone, amigo." Antonio massaged his buttock. "I won't make it."

Luis stood at the top of the hill. Ten feet of grass and rocks led to darkness at the bottom. He did not see any fancy embroidery or moonlight glinting off gemstones. Dense trees created a maze. He fashioned a torch and prepared to clamber down when a bullwhip cracked. His head snapped toward the sound.

Silhouetted in the moon's glow was a rider clad in black with flowing cape atop an equally black horse.

A second crack snatched the torch from his grip.

"It's Zorro," cried Antonio.

Another crack of the whip sent the bandidos running for their horses.

A sea of shouts above, Don Diego wove amongst the trees with experienced ease to the pile of boulders where Bernardo left the change of clothes. Mask in place, he swung atop Tornado and maneuvered onto the road. With a salute to his manservant, also in the guise of the fox, he spurred the stallion into a gallop.

Earth shook under the thunder of hooves. Antonio kicked his nag's sides, but the old horse was no match for Tornado. Zorro unfurled the whip. The length of braided leather wrapped around the paunchy rider. Zorro commanded his stallion to a halt; Antonio landed hard on the dirt with a yelp.

Setting his sights on the next bandido, the fox urged Tornado onward. Side-by-side with his prey, Zorro jumped from his mount and knocked Luis out of the saddle. They rolled on the ground with the fox ending on his feet, rapier in hand.

"It is not nice to steal, Señor."

On his knees, Luis grabbed the pistol at his waist, but his smile faded when he pulled the trigger. He did not have time to reload after firing on Don Diego. Swallowing hard, he drew his sword.

Zorro flashed a toothy white grin as he gathered his cape with a graceful flourish. Blades danced. From the corner of his eye, Zorro spied Antonio rushing forward with a pistol. He kept Luis between them. "Don Diego was correct. You are poltroons."

Antonio squeezed the trigger. His shot barely missed his compañero.

"Stop shooting, estúpido," cried Luis. "I am in the way."

"Not for long." The tip of Zorro's blade snaked in, slashing Luis on the forearm. The bandido dropped the weapon and sank to his knees.

"Mercy, Señor, mercy," he pleaded, cradling his injured arm.

"Tell your amigo to fetch your horses. If he is smart, he will not try to escape."

Once the hobbling Antonio gathered the old nags, Zorro tied his prisoners and tossed them over the saddles. "Ah, it seems Don Diego left his mark," he observed, seeing the wound on Antonio's backside. "I must not be outdone by Señor de la Vega." He cut a 'Z' into seat of both men's trousers.

"Now to present you to Sergeant Garcia." Zorro swung on Tornado's back and led the prisoners to El Camino Real, where he knew the sergeant and his men were on patrol. A short time later, he spied the lancers approaching from a vantage point above the highway.

"Buenas noches, Sergeant."

Garcia stopped his horse and looked around. "Zorro!"

"Order your men to stand down. I have a pistol aimed on you, Sergeant, and that belly makes an ample target." They complied and he motioned to the horses at his side. "I have the men who have been robbing travelers. They attempted to relieve Don Diego of his fancy sword."

"Don Diego?" gasped Garcia. "Is he hurt?"

"That remains to be seen. I leave these bandidos to your care." Tornado reared on his hind legs and Zorro saluted. "Adiós, my good sergeant."

"Lancers, get those bandidos quickly. We must help Don Diego!"

While the soldiers tended to their duties, Zorro cut across the de la Vega lands, jumping dry creek beds and dodging low branches. At the pile of boulders near the grove, he changed back into the elegant suit of a caballero. Don Diego shoved the black clothes into the saddlebags and hung the scabbard on the saddle horn.

"Go home, Tornado." A pat on the rump sent the stallion running.

Don Diego strapped the gaudy sword to his hip as he wove through the tree trunks to the spot where he fell. He mussed his hair, yanked a button from his shirt and loosened his cravat. He ripped a tear in the sash at his waist and rubbed dirt into the fine wool fabric.

Hooves sounded in the distance. Don Diego drew the blade. Holding it at both ends, he smashed it into a tree trunk, bending it at an awkward angle. A gem fell loose from the setting.

"Don Diego," called the baritone voice of Sergeant Garcia. "There is his horse! Lancers, fan out. Don Diego? Don Diego? Can you hear me?"

Don Diego crawled up the hill, his breathing heavy with exertion. "Here I am." Garcia and Corporal Reyes dismounted and ran to his side. Each grabbed him by the arm to help him scale the last foot.

"Gracias, Sergeant, Corporal." He extracted the lacy handkerchief from his jacket and wiped the dirt and sweat from his face. "Now where are those poltroons? They will taste fine de la Vega steel!"

"It is over now, Don Diego. You are safe." Garcia pointed to their prisoners. "We caught them."

"We?" asked Corporal Reyes.

"Well,"—Garcia saw the 'Z's on the prisoners' backsides as clear as day in the moonlight—"Zorro helped us a little. The important thing is that you are not hurt, Don Diego." He looked at his soiled friend. "You are not hurt, are you?"

"That scrawny fellow ignored the rules of gentlemen. I offered to engage him in a fencing bout and he shot at me! The poltroon!" Indignity laced Don Diego's voice. "That is when I fell." He rubbed his shoulder. "Such a long tumble down. I landed on a rock and my back is a little sore."

"I am sure you will feel better after a good night's rest," offered Garcia.

"Sí, a hot bath and massage is exactly what I require." Don Diego attempted to return his rapier to the bejeweled scabbard.

"Oh, look at your pretty sword." Garcia's eyes traced to the empty setting. "You lost a jewel. We will look for it immediately."

"It his hardly worth the effort for one paltry stone." Don Diego motioned Garcia to join him out of earshot of the others. "Can you keep a secret, Sergeant?"

"Certainly, Don Diego."

"It is phony."

"Phony?"

"Sí, phony. My father would not permit me to use our precious family jewels on my new sword. Perhaps he was aware something like this would occur. However,"—he motioned to his rapier—"I could not let others believe a de la Vega worthy of an inferior weapon. These are superior imitations. They will fool even the most discerning eyes. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief that they tricked your keen sense of observation. My sincerest apologies for the ruse, my dear sergeant."

"I understand, Don Diego." Garcia's lips pursed in thought. "Nonetheless, I will have my men find it. The lancers have not been paid in some time—they may decide to seek it out for their own gain. That rascal Zorro might favor it, too. It would be unfortunate if it's discovered fake."

"By the saints, you are a clever one!" Don Diego smiled in admiration. "Gracias! For your troubles, you must join me for supper tomorrow. My treat. Bring Corporal Reyes along. I enjoy his company."

"Gracias, Don Diego, gracias."

"You know, wearing a sword is dangerous business." Don Diego brought his handkerchief to his mouth and yawned. "It's too tumultuous an affair for me. I think I shall have to make my father angry again."

The sergeant sent two privates to escort Don Diego safely home. When afternoon rolled around, Garcia, accompanied by Corporal Reyes, delivered the loose stone to his friend therefore protecting his honor. They celebrated over the finest de la Vega vintage.

Zorro captured the bandidos, the sergeant boasted of his daring heroics and Don Diego listened with relish and a smile on his lips. Just another day in the Pueblo de Los Angeles.

**The End**

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><p>AN: I hope you enjoyed this lighthearted tale. Thank you for reading!


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